


Elmer Fudd to the Rescue

by phoenixnz



Series: The Chronicles of Martha and Jonathan [14]
Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:49:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9933827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixnz/pseuds/phoenixnz
Summary: Clark's been having nightmares. Jonathan has the solution.





	

Jonathan wasn’t sure how it started or why it started, but suddenly Clark seemed to be having nightmares. He would wake them up, screaming. It was almost always at two o’clock in the morning when the five-year-old should be deep in dreamland. Having pleasant dreams, not horrible ones.

After the fifth time, Clark began refusing to go to bed. Jonathan was at a loss to what to do, especially when his son would sit on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, a stubborn expression on his face. 

He tried not to yell at his only child, but this was getting ridiculous, he thought. If Clark didn’t go to bed he would be tired and cranky in the morning. He couldn’t sleep with his parents. He might still be only little at five, but their bed wasn’t exactly roomy. 

Part of him wondered if Clark was perhaps dreaming about his flight through space, or the parents that had sent him to Earth. Jonathan still wondered what had caused the little boy’s family to do such a thing. It was understandable that that abandonment would give a boy such nightmarish visions, but it was odd that it was only just now happening when he’d been living with them for three years.

Maybe it wasn’t about that at all, he thought. Then again, he had no idea what else it could be.

He ran a hand through his blond hair, gazing at his wife over the head of his stubborn child.

“What do we do?” he asked.

Martha looked just as perplexed as him.

“Clark, sweetie, why don’t you want to go to bed?”

“The monsters’ll get me,” he said. 

“What monsters, baby?”

“The monsters under my bed.”

Martha glanced at Jonathan, raising an eyebrow. Jonathan understood. Bill Ross had been talking about Pete and his own youngest son’s bedtime routine. Pete had recently begun refusing to go to bed claiming there were monsters in his room. 

“I know how to fix this,” he murmured.

When he was a child, he remembered, he’d had nightmares. While he couldn’t remember the visions, he did remember that his mother had provided a solution. She had had his dad make up a nightlight, putting it beside his bed to protect him from the dark. 

“C’mon, son,” he said, holding out his hand. “Come with me.”

Clark bit his lip, as if considering the situation, then got up, taking his father’s hand. When he realised Jonathan was taking him upstairs, he began crying.

“It’s okay,” Jonathan told him. “I promise everything will be okay.”

He led his son to his bedroom, keeping the light on and sat him down on the bed. He sat next to him.

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, Clark. See, those monsters under your bed, well, they’re afraid of the light.”

“Why?”

“Cause it hurts them.”

“Like the gremlins?”

“What gremlins?”

“Like the ones in that movie. Pete showed it to me.”

Well, that definitely explained a lot. At five, Clark, as smart as he was, wasn’t savvy enough to separate fiction from reality, so there was a good chance he thought the gremlins were real. Jonathan nodded sombrely.

“Yep, exactly like those old gremlins. So, how about this? Tomorrow we’ll get you your own nightlight so you can always have a light on in your room when it’s time for you to go to sleep. And that way, the monsters can’t come out. How about that?”

“Okay.”

“Do you think you can sleep with the light on tonight?”

Clark nodded. “I can do that, Daddy.”

Jonathan hugged him. “That’s my boy. C’mon, let’s get you in your pyjamas.”

Martha laughed when he joined her a few minutes later.

“Gremlins?” she said. “We are going to have to talk to Bill about letting the boys watch such movies.”

Jonathan shrugged. “Boys will be boys. I’m guessing Sam or one of the older boys showed it to them.”

Next day, Jonathan took his son into Fordmans Department Store. While Martha browsed the fabric department, Jonathan led Clark to the electrical department. They were greeted at the counter by George Fordman. He grinned at them, then glanced at someone who must have been standing behind one of the racks.

“Whit? Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

Jonathan looked around and smiled at the towheaded boy. Whitney was eight and while essentially was a good kid, tended to be a bit mischievous. It looked like he was spending the day helping his dad in the store.

“So what can I do for you folks?”

Jonathan placed a hand on his son’s head. 

“We’re looking for nightlights. For Clark.”

“So the monsters under my bed can’t come and eat me,” Clark said.

George winked at him.

“Well,” he said, leaning on the counter so his face was almost at Clark’s level, “I think I have just the thing.”

He led the way to the nightlights. There were a few of them, from plain lights with characters painted on lampshades to various stands made to look like characters from cartoons or movie heroes.

“What do you think, Clark?” Jonathan asked. 

Clark looked over them all, poking his tongue out slightly as he considered his choices. Then he pointed to one.

“That one,” he said. 

Jonathan grinned. Of course. Clark loved his Saturday morning cartoons, and Warner Bros were his favourites of all. George smiled and picked it up. The stand itself was shaped like the character with a frame made to look like the character was holding the bulb in his hand. 

“Well, guess this is the one then.”

They paid and Clark clutched the box to his chest. Martha rejoined them. She didn’t seem to have bought anything. 

“Hi boys. I see you got your nightlight, sweetie. Do you think Elmer’s going to be a good bodyguard?”

Clark nodded. “Yep. He’s just gonna shoot the monsters, like he does Bugs.”

“Well, that’s good then.”

“See anything you like, sweetheart?” Jonathan asked his wife, kissing her on the cheek.

“Not here,” she said. “At least one of us got something he needed.”

“How about we have lunch in town,” Jonathan suggested. “We can get Clark some hot chocolate. Would you like that son?”

“Yay!”

Holding hands, they left the store and walked down the street, Clark still happily clutching his Elmer Fudd nightlight.

That night, their little boy happily went to bed, secure in the knowledge that Elmer would indeed keep him safe from the monsters. 

Martha laughed at the complete turnaround.

“Looks like that did the trick,” she said. “How clever you are, Mr Kent.”

Jonathan grinned at her. 

“Except now I have a problem with monsters under my bed,” he told her, winking.

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Hmm, what are we going to do about that?” she asked.

“Well, I have a few ideas,” he murmured, kissing her softly. 

“I bet you do,” she replied, getting the idea. She let him go. “Last one up is a rotten egg.”

Chuckling, Jonathan chased her up the stairs.


End file.
